


The One with Draco's Wedding

by Shamione



Series: Dramione One Shots [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27288772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: Draco Malfoy is Hermione's best friend above all else. And he's to wed a woman he'd known scarcely more than a month in two brief, excruciating hours. She refused. Draco couldn't marry a bimbo he'd known for less time than it took to brew some potions. Admitting her feelings for him was the only logical way forward that Hermione could see.Every moment of them - from his apology on the train returning for their eighth year to the moment she'd received his wedding invitation - had meant more to her than she'd truly known.Or - where Hermione thought she waited too long to tell Draco she loved him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872553
Comments: 49
Kudos: 359
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	The One with Draco's Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stardustmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustmoon/gifts).



> I wrote this one quickly, so please forgive any errors. It was requested in a group on Facebook and I just ran with it. Based pretty heavily on the Friends episode.
> 
> I would like to thank [Caitlincheri2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitlincheri28) for Alpha work on this piece.
> 
> No beta. Just me and my homie Grammarly.

  


Tap.

Tap, tap.

Hermione sighed wearily, foot bouncing silently upon the tile floor as she pondered the envelope she rapped against the table. It was today, the wedding - just two fleeting hours from now. She'd agonized for days over the RSVP card, waffling between Yes and Regretfully No while she shed countless tears. As the memory of their lives together played on endless repeat in her mind.

He was unquestionably her best friend. No, not Harry. Harry was her brother. Someone she could turn to no matter what the obstacle or success.

No, Draco Malfoy was her best friend above all else. And he was to wed a woman that he'd known scarcely more than a month in just two brief, excruciating hours.

"No, Hermione."

The brunette let her gaze flit away from the envelope she desperately clutched to a wholly round-faced and round-bellied Ginny Potter, who sat munching cauldron cakes across the table. "No, what, Gin?"

"I know what you're thinking," she replied with a lifted eyebrow of challenge. "And no, you should not go to that wedding."

"It's Draco, Ginny. He's… he's my best friend. He's -"

"Getting married to another woman. You should have thought about that before his father started setting him up on all those awful dates. He met Astoria, and they fell in love."

Hermione scoffed, slamming down the envelope onto the table, trying to quell the tears slowly lining her lower lid. "They can't be in love! It's only been a bloody month!"

"I fell in love with Harry without even knowing him."

"You two are different."

"Not truly. Astoria has pined after Draco since school. Her dream is coming true today."

"Yes, but-"

Ginny shook her head hurriedly, ripping off another piece of cake. "No buts, Hermione. You said so yourself just last night - it would never work between you two."

"Perhaps I was wro -"

"You've waited too long to decide you were wrong, Hermione! You had years, and you dated everyone but him. How long did you expect him to wait?"

"I didn't know! I've only just realized I love…"

"Wait. You've only _just_ realized you love Malfoy?" Ginny asked with a laugh.

"I… well, yes! I - wait," Hermione hesitated, furrowing her brow and aiming the envelope at Ginny. "Why do you sound as if you've known?"

"I have!" The redhead blurted with a grin. "We all have! We talk about it all the time."

Hermione scoffed. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Tell you? We all thought you knew and were choosing to ignore it!"

Hermione rose abruptly, flinging her hands into the air. "No! I wasn't aware until the invite to this bloody _wedding_ came through the Floo! They aren't meant to be together, Ginny. They just met!"

"Who are you to decide his fate?"

"I - "

"Okay, okay," Ginny declared, ridding her mouth of crumbs as she waved her hands frantically. "I have an idea. Let me help you forget about him."

"What are you on about Ginny?"

"Grab a glass of water, some chocolates, and a photo of Malfoy."

Hermione merely scrunched her face in confusion, and Ginny chuckled, shooing her with a flick of her fingers. As reluctantly and petulantly as possible, slamming the cupboard after pulling out a glass, Hermione did as directed. She snagged a photo of her and Draco from her mantel, overflowed the glass with water, and grasped a handful of chocolates. Releasing all three atop the table with a sarcastic ceremony, she sank back into her seat.

Ginny smirked, drawing the chocolate to her lips. "This and the water were for me. I just didn't want to stand. Go ahead and look at the picture. But you have to focus on Malfoy's flaws."

Hermione scowled, exhaling a deep, exaggerated breath. A breath that caught in her throat as she drew the frame into her hands. She couldn't detect a single flaw, only the image of the most handsome, caring, kind man she'd ever met. They appeared entirely festive, broad smiles on both of their faces, dressed in their winter best. She remembered the day fondly - her second Christmas at the Manor when he'd given her the bracelet she now wore every day without fail.

"Okay, now close your eyes."

"Ginny -"

"Close your eyes!"

"Fine," Hermione grumbled but complied, not willing to argue with a pregnant Ginny and her hormones.

"Okay, now imagine you're with Malfoy. You're kissing him. And running your hands all over his body."

Hermione let herself feel the image playing in her mind, wondering what Draco's soft, perpetually plump, never chafed lips would feel like caressed against hers. What his hands would feel like as one encircled her waist and the other thread through her hair. Merlin, she felt feverish. Certainly, Ginny didn't intend to arouse her in her own kitchen.

"And now you're running your fingers through his hair. But, oh, ew! It's gross!" Ginny screeched with a grin, starling Hermione's eyes open wide. "His hair, it's so greasy! It's gross!"

"I don't know, Gin. Draco's hair is always so smooth. It feels like silk and always smells like sunshine," Hermione breathed, picturing each time she'd worked her fingers through his silken blonde tresses.

"Merlin, that obviously didn't work. Okay, let's try something else. Stare at the picture."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes, drawing the picture back upright. It was growing more heartbreaking to watch herself and Draco, two bodies intertwined as he slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. A closeness she hadn't positively known she'd craved until it had vanished with his proposal to another woman.

Suddenly, Ginny snatched the picture from her hand, and before Hermione could react, the redhead slapped her across the head.

"Ow!" Hermione yelped. "Ginny, what the hell?!"

"How do you feel now?"

"I certainly like you a lot less," Hermione bemoaned, massaging the side of her head.

"Well, that didn't work."

"No! It bloody didn't. Now I'm just sad, aroused, and my head hurts!"

Hermione jeered and rose quickly, stomping up the stairs to her bedroom to hide the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

What did Ginny know, anyway? She didn't know Draco the way Hermione did. She hadn't visited countless Muggle museums or endured unending conversations about dinosaurs after. Hadn't spent numerous nights together with Draco in the Manor gardens, listening to his explanation of the stars and how they were interwoven into the Black family lineage. Hadn't been there the first time Draco met her parents and dropped her mother's fully cooked turkey on the floor. Hadn't seen how he looked as her mother forced her to model the dress she'd worn to marry her father.

Hadn't witnessed them crying together over their scars and the hardships from the war. Or as they shared cups of hot cocoa on the Heads couch when nightmares had plagued them both.

Every moment of _them_ \- from his apology on the train to their eighth year to the moment she'd received his wedding invite - had meant more to her than she'd known.

She refused. Draco couldn't wed a bimbo he'd known for less time than it took to brew some potions. Admitting her feelings for _him_ , for _his_ sanity and future, was the only logical way forward. Hermione nodded to nothing, springing into a frenzied motion about her room. Less than an hour remained for her to ready herself and Apparate to the Manor. She showered swifter than she ever had, pilfering through her closet until a set of deep blue robes caught her eye.

Shoes seemed inconsequential, but she slipped on a pair of ballet pumps never-the-less, grabbing her beaded bag before throwing open her bedroom door. Her footsteps were light but swift as she bounded toward her front door, almost missing Ginny waddling from the kitchen, frantically waving a kitchen towel.

"Hermione! Hermione, where are you going?" Ginny exclaimed with a scowl reminiscent of Molly's.

"I'm going to the Manor. I have to tell Draco how I feel. He has to have all the information before he can make an informed decision!"

"You can't go, Hermione! He loves Astoria. If you go, you're just going to mess with his head. It's too late!"

"It's not too late until those marriage ribbons disappear!"

Hermione didn't pause for Ginny's response, though she heard it faintly as her navel pulled inward and her world spun. When everything stopped spinning, her feet were planted firmly on the front steps of Malfoy Manor - her magic long ago registered to bypass the wards. She wasted little time pushing open the doors and trudging through the quiet halls.

A flash of white-blonde hair vanished into the parlour at the end of the hallway as she rounded a snug corner, swelling a thick knot in her esophagus. An explosion of nerves alighted in her gut as her hands shook, and a unique swirl of pleasure and hypersensitivity rippled in her subconscious. It was now or never. Now or lose the man she loved and yearned to keep so dearly.

Hermione set her shoulders, swallowed the lump from her throat, inhaled deeply, and pushed toward the room.

Met with the most gut-wrenching scene that she could have ever envisioned. Draco stood with his future spouse in the heart of a chamber decorated lavishly with white and green, countless chairs resting in rows facing a petite platform at the room's head. One of his hands sat softly upon her cheek, the other low on her back as a longing smile played on his lips and in his eyes. Her chin was tilted toward his as she drifted into his warmth, her hands resting delicately against his chest.

They looked utterly sick in love, and Hermione wanted to both cry and retch at the sight.

They were enamored with one another. Any idiot could see it - even Hermione, the greatest, stupidest nincompoop of them all. Thick tears welled in her eyes, her chin quivering as she debated if she should run or stay. If she should turn and leave before Draco ever knew she'd arrived or stand rooted to her spot.

"I'll see you on the hour, Draco," Astoria's delicate voice echoed throughout the room, thrusting anguish deep into Hermione's gut.

Anguish that only doubled over itself as Astoria rose onto her toes to kiss the only man Hermione had ever genuinely loved. She glanced away before their lips met and couldn't bring herself to look back as nearly noiseless footsteps retreated and a door clicked shut.

"Granger?" Draco's surprised tone sang through the hall, and Hermione shakily raised her head just in time to view the smile she cherished so dearly spread across his expression. "You came."

He traversed the room in mere moments, his arms gliding low about her back as his head sank to her shoulder, nuzzling a warmth into her neck that made tears slip from her eyes. She sought to breathe naturally, attempting to shield the utter sadness that surged from deep within. But the scent of sandalwood filled her senses and made her knees weak in agony.

How could Hermione possibly betray Draco by telling him she loved him? She couldn't. Ginny was right - of course, the redhead was. Hermione knew the truth before she left her home, and she realized it even further now. Even if deep within her soul Hermione perceived this marriage as wrong, who was she to ruin her best mate's chance at happiness? Who was she to determine his fate?

It was too late.

He lingered within her embrace long enough for Hermione to clarify the tearstains upon her cheeks with a quiet charm. His hands refused to leave her hips as he leaned back, but she wanted to crawl out from her skin to escape the sensation of happiness that his hand's warmth sought to offer.

"I wouldn't have missed it."

"I wasn't sure…" he whispered, both relief and not-so-hidden melancholy dancing behind his cheerful countenance. A hand moved slowly to tuck a curl behind Hermione's ear. "You RSPV'd no. Mother was utterly sorrowful, but I'm sure she'll be pleased you showed. She loves you, after all."

"I'll have to apologise in person..."

"She's in the gardens doing her damnedest to make everything perfect. Would you like me to walk with you?"

"No…" she declined, shoving away on his chest as playfully as she could, hoping she wore a smile and not a frown. "No, Draco. You're to be married in less than thirty minutes. You need to get ready."

"Yes… you're right," he sighed, stepping back with a slight downturn of his lips. "I suppose Blaise is searching for me anyways. I'll see you at the reception?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

Hermione chose not to seek Narcissa as she turned, leaving Draco standing alone in the room meant for his sacrament. Instead, she sought a place where she felt most at comfort - the Malfoy library.

Books couldn't harm her. They could make her feel, make her cry. But they could never genuinely hurt her. Well, some of the texts Draco had thrown out might have, but he'd made this room her haven. A place that she could visit when life appeared amiss. A sanctuary that now forced thick tears into her eyes anew.

She sat unsure of how much time had passed before the doors pushing inward drew her watery gaze to a pair of emerald eyes.

"Oh, 'Mione…" Harry didn't speak again as he perched beside her, dragging her into his chest. He merely stroked her hair as she sobbed.

"How?" Hermione sniffled.

"Malfoy said you showed up and to look for you here…"

"Of course, he did…"

"'Mione, we can leave. You shouldn't force yourself to watch -"

"The man that I love is getting married, Harry. It just so happens he is also my best friend. I can't… he already knows I'm here. I can't just not be there."

"I know…" Harry pulled her in for one last tight embrace before kissing the crown of her head and withdrawing his wand. The kiss of his magic danced over her raw cheeks, and he ruefully smiled as he tucked it away. "It's almost time, then. We should go get seated."

Hermione inhaled profoundly and stood, Harry's arm slipping around her shoulder as they left the library. It was like some modern form of torture strolling through the hallways back to the parlour, passing faces of arriving guests, some she knew, and most she didn't.

But the familiar sight of Narcissa greeting people at the doorway, standing next to a stoned-faced Lucius, was like a small breath of fresh air. The woman's face grew elated as her eyes settled upon Hermione, her arms opening wide to welcome the young witch into them.

"Hermione, dear! You're here!"

"Hello, Narcissa," Hermione offered, slipping into Narcissa's outstretched arms. "I hope it is alright that I decided to attend last minute."

"Of course, my dear, of course," Narcissa cooed, running a familiar hand over Hermione's curls. "You know you're always welcome here. You look stunning."

"Well, you did pick out these robes," Hermione chuckled.

"I do have impeccable taste," Narcissa gloated with an impish grin. "Meet me at the reception? I feel as though I haven't seen you in months."

"I… well -"

"I know, dear," Narcissa said with a slightly forlorn expression. "At the reception."

Hermione nodded and gave the Malfoy matriarch one last hug before she and Harry slipped into the parlour and their chairs. One by one, each seat grew occupied as the room teemed with joyful murmurs and muffled conversations. And she didn't have to wait long before Draco appeared at the head of the room.

A soft harmony echoed about the chamber before she had an opportunity to take him in. Everyone rose, but Hermione ached to be defiant, to remain in her seat. But Harry patted her shoulder, and she acquiesced. She stood at the moment the future Mrs. Malfoy emerged through the doorway, a picture of pure perfection that Hermione could only admire from afar but never emulate. Tall, thin, the perfect shaped nose that matched her perfect blond hair and perfect chin.

She looked stunning.

But she paled in contrast to the wizard awaiting her at the altar, golden cords held firmly in his hands. He looked immaculate, more so than he ever had. An elegant assemblage of robes rested on his broad shoulders, the emerald color giving his pale skin a radiant glow. His hair was flawless, the silken, thrust back waves appearing as silky-smooth as ever. His sights were glued to Astoria, an affectionate smile on his lips making him resemble the man Hermione always knew he could be.

Hermione thought for the briefest of moments that she witnessed a tinge of melancholy in his appearance - something that only she'd be able to recognize. But she tried to convince herself she imagined the insignificant change. Nothing but love lingered in his expression and his eyes. Love for a woman that wasn't her.

Astoria approached the petite platform as an elderly officiant appeared, slipping the ribbons from Draco's hand. The future newlyweds smiled softly to one another, sweet glances passing between the two lovers as the officiant bound their hands together. As he bound their souls together.

" _Let us begin. Repeat after me, Mr. Malfoy_ ," the elderly officiant proclaimed, and Hermione had to look downward at her hands to quell her tears. " _I pledge before the old gods and the new, to have you as my wife_."

"I pledge before the old gods and the new, to have you as my wife."

_"I take you, my heart, at the rising of the moon, and the setting of the stars."_

"I take you, my heart, at the rising of the moon, and the setting of the stars."

Draco's voice was remarkably smooth, sultry. Still, it felt like a sword slicing her psyche with every word he spoke - stabbing with agonizing precision into the already shattered remnants of Hermione's heart. She didn't want to look at them. Didn't want to see how satisfied he was when she only yearned for her hands to be bound collectively with his.

_"To love and to honour, through all that may come."_

"To love and to honour, through all that may come."

_"Through all our lives together, in all our lives, may we be reborn."_

"Through all our lives together, in all our lives, may we be reborn."

_"That we may meet and know, and love again, and remember all our lives spent, Astoria."_

"That we may meet and know, and love again, and remember all our lives spent, Hermione."

_Hermione_

_Hermione_

_Hermione_

It felt as though someone had kicked Hermione directly in the lungs. She couldn't breathe, her hands frantically shaking as Harry shifted toward her with utter surprise. The whole room went quiet in an instant except for a thunderous yet delicate gasp and the furious vibration of tears.

Countless eyes flitted between her and the head of the room, some scathing, others calm, expected. Hermione's frantic gaze darted about the space, catching more than one sneer. Though, she sought not to smile as her sights settled upon Draco's mother. Narcissa wore a bright grin, eyes so vast Hermione thought she could see around them to the depths of Narcissa's brain. Though, Lucius' face painted a somewhat different story - ire and disgust.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Not now. Not at this definitive moment. No, she didn't dare look at Draco's face to see it scrunched in agony. To watch him plead apologies to a woman that wasn't her.

Her heart craved desperately to run. So, she ran - raising so suddenly she nearly toppled over her chair and the lace aisle runner as her trembling legs tore toward the exit. Without so much as a backward glance, she spun as her feet met the gravel walkway, disappearing with a soft pop.

She landed on her doorstep breathless, hands quivering as she opened the door. Ginny's face appeared from her sitting room, deep concern quickly painting her features.

"Merlin, 'Mione, what's wrong?"

"Nothing… nothing. I just… if anyone shows up, don't let them in."

She didn't pause to question why Ginny had lingered in her home. She didn't care. All Hermione currently desired was removing her suffocating robes and plunging into her bed to cry. Her mind swam with thoughts as she raced up the stairs to her room, ripping off the dark blue robes with fervor as she began to pace.

Draco had said her name.

_Her name._

He'd been at the altar, hands laced with another woman, and had spoken the name she had so desperately wished to hear. What could it mean? Ginny would tell her it meant nothing. That he was merely surprised she had shown up and that her name had slipped out.

That thought wracked her body with a fresh welling of sobs; weepings that amplified with the soft knock on her door.

"Not right now, Gin -"

"Granger."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the deep, imploring softness of Draco's voice floating through her bedroom door.

He'd followed her.

"Granger, let me in."

"No…"

"I'll get in either way."

She knew it was true. They'd studied unlocking charms together during Draco's Auror training. But she didn't desire to let him in. Her mind couldn't process why he was here and not with his wife. The day had thoroughly destroyed all of her functioning thought, and she just ached to collapse.

"I shouldn't have come today."

A faint light rippled around her doorframe, and he cracked the door slowly, walking in and closing it behind him. He looked apprehensive at first, taking gradual movements toward her until she stepped backward once.

"I… I knew better. And now I've ruined your marriage to the only woman you've ever loved."

He scoffed, his face a mixture of gaiety and sadness as he rocked his head. "I've only ever loved one woman that attended that wedding today, Hermione."

"Your mother…"

A genuine laugh parted his lips as he took another step closer. "Alright, two women. Do you want to hear about the second?"

A new knot had formed in her throat so thick she couldn't speak. So she merely shook her head no, glancing toward the floor.

"I'm going to tell you anyway."

Another step.

"The woman I love, _have_ loved for many years, is the most brilliant person I've ever known."

Tears continued to split from her eyes, which she refused to rise and meet his. She could perceive the weight of his gaze on her, observing her sobbing as he gradually advanced toward her.

"She's caring and kind. Looks out for everyone before herself, including creatures who don't want it, even to her own detriment."

His shoes slid into her line of sight, the toes nearly kissing hers. The warmth of his aura reached out to soothe hers, his voice faint over the pounding in her ears and the racing of her heart.

"She has the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard, and I could sit beside her for hours in silence as she read, just admiring her. Cherishing every moment. Marveling at the sheer brilliance that no one person should hold, but she does."

His hand rose to her chin, and she let him draw it upward. His expression was soft, a delicate smile on his lips as single tears slipped from both eyes.

"Hermione, I love you so much it hurts at times.

Watching you with all those inane men and knowing you never wanted me. Comparing myself to them and wondering what they had that I didn't. What they could offer you that I couldn't. Knowing I wasn't the person with which you wished to be. I tried just to let it go. I tried to let you go. But gods, if I couldn't help but reminisce of you every moment of every day.

Even today. When I saw you standing in that parlour, I desperately wished it to be you who I was marrying. That you had just kissed me and walked away to put on your mother's hideous wedding dress to meet me at the altar."

Hermione huffed a chuckle, her body jumping with audible sobs. "It's not so hideous."

"It is, but you looked beautiful in it none-the-less."

"I did… I do want to be with you. I… I love you. Draco, you have everything I've ever wanted and more. It just took me too long to realize it. I was too late…"

Draco's fingers slid deftly across her jaw then, brushing a soft thumb over her cheek. He looked utterly divine, yearning for her painted in his features, his eyes searing into hers as his hand traveled down her neck. She leaned into the feeling of him. Into his warmth. Into his love. Letting her eyes fall closed with anticipation.

"You weren't too late."

The familiar scent of spearmint wafted between them, and then his lips were caressing hers.

Their first kiss.

A loving embrace. Lustful. Passionate. Yet somehow soft and absolute. Delicate and pleading. Giving and taking. Thoroughly different than Hermione had envisioned it would be. Her fingers tingled with anticipation, fisting in the fabric of his shirt to draw him closer. To feel him. To drink in the moment that she'd craved for years but only just acknowledged.

Her body's reaction was quick. She could feel the slickness between her folds at just Draco's touch, at only his long-anticipated kiss. It was frantic, long-held emotion bubbling to the surface as their tongues swirled. She scarcely registered as he lifted her, moving her toward her bed. Even less their clothes vanishing as he laid her against her own mattress.

Utter need swirled in her core as his lips left hers, kissing down the sensitive column of her neck. Tongue darting across her skin, making her fingers seek the silk tresses she so frequently craved. How they'd gotten here, she didn't know. And she didn't care. Because her body vibrated with pure ecstasy when Draco's firm tongue pressed through her folds, discovering her apex with artistry she'd never experienced prior.

He praised her femininity, driving in one finger and then a second as his quick tongue flicked against her clit. As he readied her. It was as brief as it was pleasurable, but nothing compared to the weight of his figure against hers as he aligned their centers.

Her legs trembled as she raised them to offer a more accessible angle. Draco pressed his head into the junction of Hermione's neck with a sigh as he slid his manhood gently into her eager slit. A sigh that echoed her absolute satisfaction at finally being joined with the person she loved. At the feeling of fullness about which she had only ever daydreamed. For which she had hopelessly longed. Craved.

He didn't move for several long moments, merely reveling in their affection. But a heat built within Hermione regardless. Pleasure tingled at the tip of her toes at the feeling of their togetherness. At the rush of excitement that curled her lips into a grin at her new fullness. And when he ultimately moved, pulling out languidly before thrusting purposefully back in, her entire body tensed with pleasure.

Gods, did he know how to move. Slowly yet so powerfully. Sheathing himself over and over easily. Their bodies moved in a tantalizing tandem, skin kissing with each deliberate thrust. She couldn't hold back her moans or halt her trembling fingertips from clawing at his back.

"So beautiful, Hermione," he grunted. "So bloody beautiful. I love you."

"I love you, Draco."

He groaned at her words and crashed into her, ripping an indelicate moan from her lips. His pace grew punishing then, and she welcomed it. Her whole body pleaded for him to fill her. To fuck her. To make her world shatter around his thick arousal. The rock of his pelvis against her clit was like a jolt of fresh electricity across her skin, a bud of indescribable bliss erupting low in her abdomen.

Their movements were frantic; the other's given name tumbling past lips between unintelligible swears and lewd moans.

It was sudden. Like a black hole imploding, a force so cosmic it was unimaginable. Hermione's legs stretched taut, fingers grasping at the pale, smooth skin she'd long dreamt of. And her mind went blank as she squandered all control, tripping over the pleasure precipice as her orgasm forced throughout her entire body. Delight clearing her mind for visions of pure ecstasy to whirl wildly behind the eyelids that she shut tightly.

He followed quickly, a groan trailing three delicate thrusts before his movements stilled, cock thumping as he spilled himself inside her. His arms shook before he collapsed on top of her, and she drew him in, wrapping her arms and legs around him as his slid between her back and the mattress. They laid entangled together, breaths slowing as her fingers scraped softly along his back. And he looked absolutely sated as he gently removed himself, falling beside her on the bed. A wide smile. Lips red and plump from hers. Pale skin flushed. And his eyes… slowly turning purple?

She ran her finger along the creases softly, and he winced, eyes fluttering open.

"Your eye…"

"Astoria may have punched me. But I assure you, it held no comparison to yours. She never compared to you."


End file.
